


You Want Pretzels

by mysterytour



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Judy Garland's award winning performance in Judgment at Nuremberg, Pretzels, Snacks & Snack Food, Tok'ra, Tok'ra (Stargate), a stupid piece of nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 19:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterytour/pseuds/mysterytour
Summary: Selmak wants pretzels. Jacob is having none of it.





	You Want Pretzels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Get Into Gate](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Get+Into+Gate).



> Cheers to the Get Into Gate lads for the inspo.

_You want pretzels._

 

_I know what you’re doing and it’s not gonna work._

 

_**You want pretzels.** _

 

_**Yo** **u** want pretzels._

 

_My dear host, I implore you..._

 

‘No.’

 

_Please._

 

‘Get ‘em yourself, you lazy bastard.’

 

‘Is everything okay?’ Sam asked him.

 

‘Yeah, sorry...’

 

‘Because I’m trying to watch this.’ _This_ was Judgment _At_ _Nuremberg_. Sam liked Judy Garland (Jacob hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to her interests when she was growing up, but he knew this), and Selmak was doggedly interested in politics (and steam trains, but that was a whole other thing) which was probably why she had chosen the movie.

 

Judy Garland was good, Jacob had to admit, but now instead of enjoying her performance he was thinking about was pretzels. And he didn’t even like pretzels.

 

_Jacob, why won’t you—_

 

‘Because I don’t want any.’

 

Sam paused the movie and glared.

 

‘Sorry.’

 

‘What’s the matter?’

 

‘Do you have any pretzels?’

 

‘You know I don’t like pretzels. _You_ don’t like pretzels!’

 

Jacob knew that, but it was worth a try. ‘Selmak wants... I think I’ve got some in the car.’ He grumbled.

 

‘So go get them.’

 

‘He can’t be bothered.’

 

‘Then you get them.’

 

‘No—it’s the principle! He should get them himself...’

 

Sam rolled her eyes, ‘You know, I picked movie because I thought you’d like it.’ _You_ meant Selmak.

 

Jacob allowed Selmak to come forward. ‘You’re right, Samantha, I must apologise.’

 

Sam shook her head, ‘It’s alright. I have other snacks, if you’d like something.’

 

‘I would not, but thank you.’

 

Sam pressed play.

 

God, this movie was heavy.

 

Selmak glanced at Sam’s feet. She was curled up on her end of the couch. In Tok’ra culture (and many human cultures) it was considered extra-ordinarily rude to put one’s feet on the furniture, but that wasn’t to say they never felt the urge to do it. _That appears to be a comfortable way to sit._ He mused.

 

 _I’m not stopping you._ Jacob said.

 

_I couldn’t possibly._

 

_Suit yourself._

 

‘May I put my feet on the couch?’ Selmak asked Sam.

 

‘You can if it doesn’t involve talking.’

 

Selmak curled up and remained silent. Jacob couldn’t believe how flexible he’d gotten since the two of them were joined.

 

_The film **is** heavy._

 

_It’s about Nazis, Selmak._

 

_I know. But I appreciate the actress's performance._

 

_She’s not just a pair of glitter-shoes in a pinafore, is she?_

 

_I would like to see The Wizard of Oz if it is less dour._

 

_Well. There’re songs._

 

_Songs? How uncommon!_

 

_Actually, she’s done a lot of…_

 

The Trolley Song popped into the forefront of Jacob’s mind.

 

Selmak gasped internally. _...How extraordinary! Exhilarating!_

 

_We’ll see what you think of it when it’s been running through my head for two weeks straight._

 

 _I can’t imagine ever growing tired of it. I think it is wonderful._ ‘I am enjoying this film.’ Selmak said aloud. ‘Perhaps we could watch _Meet Me In St Louis_ , after it has completed?’

 

‘Uh, sure.’ Sam smiled a little and turned her attention back to the movie.

 

Selmak and Jacob swapped places. There wasn’t any need for it, but Jacob had come to appreciate the experience of just ‘being’ in his own body.

 

For a minute at least, Selmak stayed silent. _Clang, clang, clang went the trolley—ding, ding, ding, went the bell,_ went Jacob’s brain.

 

_Zing, zing, zing._

 

 _Stupid nonsense words._ Jacob thought. Then he thought, _Judy Garland’s hair almost looks like a pretzel._

 

Dammit. Jacob grabbed the remote and paused the movie, again. Sam groaned loudly. Jacob looked apologetic, ‘Sorry kid. I’ll be back in a minute.’


End file.
